A Canadian Christmas Carol
by GreatMountainTengu
Summary: It's Christmas, but Quebec is being a jerk to everyone and ditching the festivities, until she is visited by three ghosts...Fic starring my thirteen Hetalia OC's, rated for use of tobacco, alcohol, and minor creepiness.
1. No Passion for Charities

**Hey everyone! Merry Christmas or whatever you celebrate, and Happy New Year. Uploaded for the holidays, this fic is a rather strange take on Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" that stars my thirteen Hetalia OC's, the Canadian provinces and territories. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own rights to any works of literature or animation that this fic is based on. All works parodied here belong to their respective owners. Thank you, and don't sue me.**

A Canadian Christmas Carol

It wasn't that Québec hated the holidays, she just didn't want to spend them with her fellow provinces, the territories, or Canada-Québec felt that she was superior to them all. So she seemed especially grumpy on Christmas Eve, when Alberta and Saskatchewan came to visit her.

It was evening, and Québec had been listening to the radio while having a light smoke. Eventually, the sultry voice of the French singer who Québec was listening to was drowned out by an annoying, insistent bell ringing from down the street. It seemed to go on forever, and after nearly ten minutes of that noise, the blonde French girl pulled on her mink coat and leather boots and tromped out of her house and into the street with a scowl on her face.

"Merry Christmas, everyone! Ho, ho, ho, eh!" It was Ontario who was making all the noise. He stood on the street corner next to a salvation army donation kettle, dressed as Santa Claus, bell in hand. He was shouting Christmas greetings to passers-by while ringing the bell. Occasionally, someone came by and dropped some coins or a paper bill into the kettle.

"Ontario!" Québec hollered at him.

Ontario turned around and smiled at her. "Oh! Hey, Québec! Merry Christmas, eh!"

"Now you listen here, _mon ami idiotique_. You are making far too much noise for me to enjoy my music! Be quiet!"

Ontario shrugged. "Sorry aboot that, but I can't stop ringing the bell 'til I've reached a certain amoont, eh?"

"Then go ring your bell someplace else!" Québec shouted. "I am trying to enjoy my vacation off! Now be gone, before I smash in your CN tower!"

This seemed to scare Ontario plenty. He immediately picked up his kettle and ran off. Québec whipped around and marched back to her house. No sooner had she settled on the chesterfield with a glass of wine when the doorbell rang. Several times. The Frenchwoman rolled her eyes. Only one person could be that insistent on getting into someone's house.

"It's open!" Québec called.

The door flew open and smashed against the wall. In tromped Alberta with his big, expressive grin on his face. Saskatchewan followed silently behind. "Hey there Québec!" Alberta shouted. "Happy Holidays!"

"Yes, yes, happy holidays," murmured Saskatchewan.

Québec glanced indignantly at the brothers. "What is it you want, _fréres prairie_?"

"Well, ya see, this year me and Saskie-boy are representin' a company devoted to the cause of givin' nice presents and canned food and stuff to poor people," Alberta explained.

Saskatchewan pulled a pen and a large envelope out of his coat. "That's right. Any donations you'd like to make, Miss?"

"Here's business card for the company me and Saskie are representin'. just call that number any time you'd like to make any additional donations," Alberta said, taking a small card out of his pocket and handing it to Québec.

She glowered at him. "Are there no prisons…?" she inquired of Alberta and Saskatchewan.

"P-prisons?" Alberta was taken aback. "Well, sure…plenty of prisons, Miss Québec."

"…and the housing for the unemployed is still in operation?" she went on.

The prairie brothers exchanged worried looks. Finally, Alberta spoke. "…it is, But I wish I could say it wasn't."

Québec seemed relieved. "Ah, _bon_. I feared something had interrupted the course of their useful occupations."

After an awkward hesitation, Alberta spoke again. "…yeah. Well, uh, at this festive time of year, it is wished that as many people as possible should make a donation to good, honest, hardworkin' companies like the one me and Saskie-boy are here on behalf of. What're we gonna putcha down for?"

"Nothing," Québec replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you…want to be an anonymous donor?" asked Saskatchewan.

"I want to be left in peace!" the blonde Frenchwoman retorted. She was on the verge of shouting. "I support the establishments that I have mentioned, and the poor people you speak of must go there," she said dismissively.

Saskatchewan looked as though he was about to cry. Alberta lowered his head slightly, his eyes deep with emotion. His voice got very quiet. "A lot of 'em _can't_ go there, and…well, to be honest, a lot of 'em would rather die."

"Then they had better go and do it, and decrease this disgustingly overflowing populace!" That time Québec did shout. Both boys looked as though they'd seen a ghost.

"Good day, you two!" Québec shooed the brothers away.

"Y-yeah…s-see ya round…" Alberta led Saskatchewan out of the house, not looking back.

"Foolish boys," Québec muttered. "Since when did Alberta make it his business to donate gifts to poor people? He's far too rich to care, him and his oil."

Just then, the phone rang. Québec let it ring a few times before snatching it up. "_Allo_?"

"Québec? You there?" It was New Brunswick, the lumberjack province.

"_Oui_, this is Québec. What do you want?"

"Matthew will be here soon. When're you coming over to help us with the food?"

Québec sighed in irritation. "If I told you once, I told you a hundred times: I won't be celebrating with you English-speaking idiots!"

"C'mon now, you don't mean that. Everyone's here except for Nova Scotia and you! So come on over here!" New Brunswick urged.

Québec narrowed her eyes. "How come your little Scottish girlfriend isn't there, hmm?"

New Brunswick hesitated. It didn't take a genius to tell he was embarrassed by the suggestion that he was dating Nova Scotia. "…s-she's been in Boston for days. The stupid storm between McAdam and Augusta has delayed her at least four times.

"But that doesn't mean you can't show a little family spirit by getting over to Matthew's house! So hurry up!"

"I told you, I am not going to celebrate with you!" Québec insisted.

Now it was New Brunswick's turn to mock her. "Then who will you celebrate with? Pervy old Bonnefoy?" he said smugly.

Québec flushed with anger. "I'm not going to spend Christmas with Monsieur France, if that's what you mean. Now leave me in peace!" She hung up without another word to New Brunswick. "Maritime provinces speak so rudely…" she muttered to herself. She glanced at the clock. 7:23. _I might as well settle down for the night_, Québec thought. She grabbed her wine bottle and glass and sauntered up the stairs to bed.

-END OF CHAPTER ONE-


	2. Dreadful Apparition

It was 9:10, and Québec had been watching television in her bedroom when she heard a strange noise. It sounded like footsteps, large and ominous. She decided it was her imagination and focused on the French dub of the old movie _It's a Wonderful Life_ she'd been watching. But the footsteps got louder and louder until they stopped right outside her bedroom door. Québec paused the DVD and looked towards the door. The knob turned slowly and the door opened hesitantly with an eerie creaking noise on the door hinges. The blonde girl was frightened now-maybe a serial killer had gotten into her house?

"W-who is it?" Québec called to the door. It flew open now and stood completely out of the way. Nobody stood there, but Québec heard a moan that was loud and desperate, as though the sound was pushing itself out with all its might.

"T-this isn't funny!" Québec warned anyone who might be trying to scare her. The moan grew louder and louder, and as it did so, in floated a foggy, bluish mist in the shape of a man wearing a black double-breasted jacket, bowtie, and formal slacks. He had grey-tinted hair that looked like it had been strewn about by a strong wind, and the weirdest thing was that his hair seemed to be moving in a wind of its own, despite the fact that there was no wind in the room. Excepting that and the fact that he was nearly transparent, the ghost looked exactly like…

"Sir George Etienne-Cartier!" Québec gasped, her eyes wide in terror.

The ghost had his eyes narrowed in an expression of pure resentment. "_Mon serviteur Québec_, you have displeased me," he bellowed. It felt to Québec as though his voice was straining its way into her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut, pinched herself, and opened her eyes again. Sure enough, the French-Canadian founding father still stood before her.

"Who are you, and why are you here?!" Québec demanded of the ghost.

He squinted at the Frenchwoman in distaste. "Ask me who I _was_," he told her.

"Who…who _were_ you, then?" Québec asked, her voice shaking.

The ghost floated closer to her. "In life…I was one of your founding fathers…George Etienne-Cartier," he informed the frightened girl.

Québec realized she was in the presence of her master, the one who founded her as a province and brought her into being, so she immediately dropped her head in reverence. "_Dominateur_, I wish that you should comfort yourself in my humble dwelling…" she said without looking up.

"I shall," the ghost said, and floated down into a chair next to the bed.

"You do not believe in me, do you, _mon serviteur_?" the ghost asked Québec.

"_Non_," she admitted.

The ghost seemed indignant. "Why do you doubt what you see?"

"Because," Québec replied, "I might not even be seeing you or hearing you. I might have drunken too much wine and dreamed you up! You're nothing more than a hallucination, for all I-"

"aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHhh h!" The ghost proceeded to shake itself nearly to shreds while moaning and screaming at the top of its lungs.

Québec fell to her knees. "Stop! Stop! I'm begging you, hellish apparition!" She was in tears now.

"_Mon serviteur infidéle_, do you believe in me or not?!" the ghost demanded.

"I do, _mon dominateur_, I believe in you! Please stop this!" Québec begged.

"aaaahhh-hhhooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!" the ghost that looked but didn't behave like Québec's founding father seemed to be frightened out of his mind himself.

The howling disturbed the French girl even further. "_S'il vous plait_, _mon dominateur_, tell me why you live as a ghost and why you came here!"

The ghost met eyes with his founded province. "You have mistreated your fellow provinces without a single thought that they are your family and their wish is to be united as one, especially during this sacred time.

"I am merely here to warn you, _mon serviteur_, that you have a single chance to redeem yourself from the cruelty you have inflicted on your family. One chance!"

Québec breathed a sigh of relief. "You always have been a good master. _Merci_."

"You shall be haunted by three more ghosts."

The French girl tensed again. "…I'd rather not, _monsieur_."

"Expect the first tonight when the clock strikes one," ordered the ghost.

"Can't I see them all at once and have it over with?" Québec pleaded.

The ghost ignored her. "Expect the second tomorrow at the same hour…and the third at midnight." He stood in front of Québec and looked her directly in the eyes. For a second, his face, hair, and eyes seemed to flush with colour, and he looked human again. But just as quickly as it came, the colour drained from the ghost. He floated toward Québec's bedroom window and opened it without touching it. As he flew out the window and into the night, the ghost spoke his last words: "Look to see me no more, _mon province fondée_."

Québec apparently had to be content with that, so she shut her window, drew the curtains, shut off the light, turned off the T.V., and awaited the first ghost.

-END OF CHAPTER TWO-


	3. Metis Girl of the Past

**WARNING: This chapter contains historical allusions that may come across as offensive to some people. Viewer discretion is advised.**

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Québec had decided that she'd had too much wine and shrugged off the ghost's warning. However, she started to have second thoughts when the clock struck 1:00 A.M. Her entire bedroom burst with light and at the foot of her bed stood a young brunette with kind, tired eyes. She wore a faded yellow scarf around her neck, a mocha-coloured coat, and a teal skirt that left only a bit of her black rubber boots uncovered. She was translucent, and small but strong-burning flames seemed to encircle her head.

"M-Manitoba? What are you doing here?" Québec asked the girl.

The brunette shook her head. "I am not your friend Manitoba, but the Ghost of Christmas Past," she replied.

Québec sighed. "Well, Manitoba, Christmas-Ghost, whatever you are, what are you doing here?"

"I am here because your welfare concerns me," said Christmas Past.

"If you're so concerned, then leave me in peace," Québec told the ghost, lying back down.

Christmas Past yanked the sheets right off Québec's bed and grabbed her arm. "Come now, rise and travel with me!" The ghost led Québec to the window and made a lifting motion with her hand. The window instantly opened.

The blonde shuddered. "But, I can't fly like you can! I'll surely fall!"

Christmas Past sighed and muttered something under her breath. She looked back at Québec. "Trust me, you won't fall. I gotcha." Her voice, so reassuring, sounded exactly like the sisterly voice of Manitoba.

The flame-adorned ghost jumped into the air and flew at top-speed out the bedroom window, still clutching Québec's arm. Flurries of snow flew into Québec's face, clouding her vision and the magnificently strong wind made her long blonde hair stream behind her. She gawked at the sight around her. Colours swirled before the pair of travelers in a brilliant spiral of light. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash, and they stopped flying.

Looking around, Québec realized that she was no longer in the snow-covered streets of her capital city, but in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. She and the ghost were standing on a hilltop. The weather was warm, even for weather in a maritime province.

"Mademoiselle Ghost," Québec asked, "why is it summer here on the island? It was winter yesterday…"

Christmas Past looked at the French girl indignantly. "Is it possible that you've forgotten the day you became a province?" she demanded.

"1867, the first of July? But how did we go back…who are the people down there?" Québec pointed at the bottom of the hill. A boy who looked much like Canada, only a bit younger, and four children stood together.

One child had short red hair and wore a tartan kilt. She was smiling in warmth and anticipation. Another had dark, wavy hair and looked rather scared but excited at the same time. He wore a fancy black coat. The third child, a boy with sleek brown hair, was dressed informally and smiled as if he was having a joke. And the last child, the tallest, was blonde and looked very mature and ladylike in a long, purple dress coat.

Christmas Past turned to Québec. "Don't you know them?" Suddenly it dawned on her.

"They're…the young founding provinces! The one in the kilt is Nova Scotia, and he's New Brunswick, the next one is Ontario, and the one with the purple coat is me!" Québec exclaimed, pointing to each of the children. "Ah…and that other one…he's Monsieur Canada, and he's young again."

"I'd like to thank you all for being here," young Canada told the children. "Thanks to you four, I'm officially a nation now. So even though I'm your supervisor, I want to be your friend as well. Can you tell me your names?"

The redhead spoke first. "I'm Nova Scotia, or New Scotland as the explorers called me," she said, still smiling warmly.

The boy with the black coat said, "The founding fathers said that I am New Brunswick."

Next to speak was the brown-haired boy. "They named me Ontario, eh!"

The last to speak was the tall blonde girl. "And my name is Québec."

Young Canada looked fondly at his four provinces. "Once again, I thank you."

The scenery suddenly changed. Ghost and province still stood in Charlottetown, but the sun was setting now. Younger Québec and Ontario were at a playground, leisurely sitting on the swing set.

"For our first day as provinces, it's sure been busy, eh?" young Ontario mused.

"Indeed it has," Québec's younger self agreed. "But I suppose I like it."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, eh. Like it feels good to be part of something?"

"Well, doesn't it?" the little girl asked.

Ontario nodded. "Say, what do you think aboot those other two?"

Québec furrowed her brow. "That Nova Scotia's quite a wild one. Not ladylike at all. And New Brunswick…he seems so shy. I wonder what his problem is?"

Ontario shrugged. "I think Nova's kinda fun. New Brunswick sure is shy, but he's smart, too, eh?" He glanced at the sky. The sun began to sink lower in the west.

"Oh, jeez, it's getting late. You wanna walk home together?" Ontario asked.

"_Oui_, that would be nice!" Québec smiled. She and Ontario got off the swings and walked away from the playground together, hand in hand.

Meanwhile, the Québec who had been watching this began to tear up. She brushed at one of her eyes. Christmas Past looked at her uneasily. "Are you alright?"

"_Oui_, _oui_, I'm fine…something in my eye…it won't come out…!"

The ghost waved her hand and the scenery changed once more. Now the two were standing outside Canada's house. "Why are we here?" asked Québec.

Christmas Past was smiling now, as if remembering something pleasant. "This was the first Christmas that the four of you spent together as Canadian provinces!" the ghost replied. She led Québec through the door(literally-they floated right through it) and they both looked around.

The whole sitting-room was decorated with garland and red ribbons, a tall Christmas tree decorated with tinsel and a gold star stood near the wall, and Nova Scotia was skipping around while playing cheery music on the fiddle while everyone else was dancing to it(or at least attempting to). Canada and the four founding provinces were there, along with their other nine siblings and/or friends who had not yet become provinces or territories, but were still glad to join the party and have a good time.

Nova Scotia started playing a little faster, and with every few seconds, the speed of the music gradually increased, as did the speed of the dancers, until the boy who would later be called Alberta ended up crashing into the Christmas tree and showering the area around him with stray pine needles. This got a general laugh out of everybody, particularly Canada, who said, "It's a good thing somebody thought ornaments would be a bad idea!"

The boy whose name would eventually be Saskatchewan grabbed his friend under the arms and lifted him out of the pine needles.

Nova Scotia was laughing so hard she nearly dropped her fiddle. "Alright, how's about I slow the music down a bit, before anybody else takes a dive into tinsel, aye?" she asked when she was able to get a hold of herself.

Soon-to-be-Saskatchewan struggled under the weight of his unconscious friend. "Please do," he moaned.

She nodded and began to play a gentle slow-dance tune. Near the fringes of the room, young Ontario blushingly asked young Québec to dance with him. She agreed and put her arms around his neck, and they began to dance together to the slow and heartfelt fiddle music.

Once again, the Québec of the present began to tear up. "Ontario…" she whispered. She turned to the ghost. "Mademoiselle Ghost, please take me away from here…I can't take it. Is the whole point of your visitation to guilt-trip me?"

"Maybe…" said Christmas Past, averting her eyes. She waved her hand again, and for a third time, the scenery changed. They were now standing in a different room in Canada's house. Canada, who was sitting in a chair, now appeared at almost his present age, and his expression was one of despondency. In front of him, an only slightly younger Québec was pacing about and scowling at him.

"You don't care at all, do you?" Canada sighed. "Another rebellion has replaced me."

Québec scoffed. "Another rebellion. What rebellion?"

"One of desire."

Québec glowered at her supervisor. "There is nothing more frightening to me than a life doomed to confinement. May I ask you, Monsieur, why you confine so severely? Do you _want_ to get rid of me?"

"Of course not, Québec, but you resent me too much to understand," Canada replied. "You've changed."

"Changed indeed! I've grown wiser, if that's what you mean."

"The original Confederation is over a hundred years now. It was made when you were a province and content to be so. Ask the other three. They'll remember."

"I was hardly a province back then, and besides which, I was young and stupid!" Québec snapped.

They were both silent for a minute, then Canada said, "What about the others? They care about you."

Québec rolled her eyes. "Even Ontario?"

"Starting with Ontario," the bespectacled nation retorted. "If you leave, he'll be impacted the most."  
"I will discuss it with you no further." And she started toward the foyer, grabbed her coat out of the closet, and hustled off, leaving Canada alone.

"Ghost," present-Québec pleaded, "take me away from here. I can't stand it anymore."

"These are just shadows of the past; once they're done, they're done. Don't blame me," explained Christmas Past.

"It's too much for me to bear, take me back!"

Suddenly, the ghost's face changed into that of Ontario. Then it changed to Nova Scotia…then New Brunswick…then Canada…then back to Ontario…

It was too much for Québec. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, "GO AWAY!"

When she opened her eyes, she was back in her bedroom. Christmas Past was gone, and the room was dark, as it had been before the ghost arrived.

-END OF CHAPTER THREE-

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	4. Prairie Brother of the Present

**Merry Christmas for realz, people! I'll probably not have the rest of this fic uploaded until January, since I'll be away. Sorry.**

* * *

Later on, Québec woke up, more out of expectancy for the second ghost than fear of it. She glanced at the digital clock. 12:44.

"Twelve-forty-four? How is that possible? It was one o'clock when the ghost came! It's impossible to sleep for nearly a full twenty-four hours, isn't it?" Just then, there was a roar of fire that lit up the room. Québec gasped and started to panic. Then, she heard someone laughing. She snapped her head toward the direction of the sound. There, near the back wall, sat a pile of all kinds of food. Pork, duck, goose, sheep, turkeys, fish, pies, cakes, pudding, and all kinds of fruits and vegetables were all stacked into a huge heap. On top of that tempting heap of food sat a giant, or at least his features were much bigger than those of a normal person. He had rugged, sandy blond hair, ice-blue eyes, wore a green robe fringed with white that left part of his chest bare. A wreath decorated with candles and red ribbons adorned his head, and he wore slippers of brown leather. In his hand he held a large cornucopia-like torch, out of which a strong flame burned merrily. The ghost was laughing like a hillbilly.

Québec grew very angry. "Alberta! What do you mean by coming in here at one o'clock in the morning and piling food all over the floor?!"

The ghost laughed even harder. When he was able to control himself, he said, "Listen here, I ain't no Alberta, I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present! Get over here, and let's get acquainted."

The French girl sighed. "So, where are _you_ going to take me?"

Upon this, the ghost set into another laughing fit. Once he was able to speak again, he told Québec to touch his robe. She did so, and Christmas Present waved his torch in a wide circle and sprinkled sparks all over. Once the room was engulfed in flame, light swirled around them, Québec and the ghost. It dissipated, and they were now standing in the street.

"What is with you ghosts? You keep taking me to Canada's house! You really want to make me feel guilty, don't you?!" Québec demanded once she knew where Christmas Present had taken her.

"Yeah, I won't lie, that is one of our requirements," the ghost replied. "Let's go in, yeah?" Christmas Present led her directly through the door.

Inside, Ontario was sitting near the sitting-room window, looking impatient. Not far off from him, Newfoundland and his dog, Labrador, were decorating. In the kitchen, the Northwest Territories seemed to be everywhere at once. One second she was stirring a pot of something, next second, she was chopping up vegetables, the second after that, she was minding that the apple pie didn't burn in the oven. Manitoba was helping her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Prince Edward Island, who was carrying a pot of seafood, opened the door to let Alberta, Saskatchewan and New Brunswick in. They were carrying a tall Christmas tree. Once the three boys had it set up in the sitting-room, Newfoundland & Labrador and British Columbia went to the task of hanging popcorn strings and ornaments on it. The Yukon hoisted little Nunavut up on her shoulders so he could crown the tree with a star.

"I wonder, what could possibly be keeping Nova Scotia? Matthew will be here any minute now," mused Manitoba.

"What is it, the fifth time she's been delayed now?" said New Brunswick. "I can't help but worry. This storm…"

Prince Edward Island chuckled, overhearing their conversation. "It's just like you to worry about Big Sis, Brunny. We all know you fancy her."

New Brunswick blushed and shook his head violently. "So? Even if I didn't, I'd still worry. If the ice was too much…"

Just then, the doorbell rang. New Brunswick and PEI practically squashed each other trying to get there to open it. Nova Scotia came in, tired, cold, but smiling, and happy to be with her fellow provinces. "Merry Christmas, lads!" she said to Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick.

"Novie, you're back! What took you so long? It must be really bad out there, huh?" the lumberjack province hugged the Scottish girl tightly.

She shook her head. "Nah, not that bad, just some traffic…and the engine freezing up once or twice…and a great deal of ice on the roads in Augusta…but I'm here now, and thankfully before big man."

"Glad you made it, sis, and how did Massachusetts like the tree?" asked PEI.

Nova was hesitant. "…I hate to be a party pooper, so I'd rather not discuss it."

"It be an awful 'ing, 'at tree!" Newfoundland snorted.

Nova Scotia glared at him. "For your information, Newfie, it's a very good tree, and if Massachusetts doesn't think so you can tell him to go and-"

"Mattie's coming! Mattie's coming, eh!" Ontario piped up from the window. This set everyone into a general excitement. "Laird thunderin', we's in big trouble 'ere!" Newfoundland panicked.

"Stop blathering and make yourself useful!" muttered New Brunswick. "Novie, you oughtta get warmed up. I'll get the portable heater and-"

"No, no, no, no, no, no! I can hear Matthew out there! Hide, sis, hide!" PEI shoved his sister into the nearest closet, much to her surprise.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "Come in!" Manitoba shouted from the kitchen.

In came Matthew Williams, packed in at least three jackets and a red toque, holding Kumajiro in his arms. "Oh, it's cold out there, and that's coming from the mouth of a Canadian!" he laughed.

"Matthew! So good to see you!" the Northwest Territories cried, darting from the kitchen.

"So good to see all of you here, too!" Canada replied.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asked him.

"I feed you." He looked around, examining the room. "Hold on, where's Nova Scotia?"

"Oh, err…she…got delayed again. She won't be able to make it," Manitoba lied.

Canada seemed dismayed. "Not coming? Not coming on Christmas?"

Now, despite being quite a prankster, Nova Scotia hated to see her old friend with such a sad face. So she threw open the closet door and shouted, "Here I am, big man!"

"Hey, listen, Mattie, we're really sorry we couldn't get a turkey…" British Columbia hung his head.

"Oh, please don't worry," said Canada. "It's not your fault, it's this storm. No wonder all the stores are closed. Besides, we're all here together, and I suppose that's all that matters…cliché, I know."

"Monsieur Ghost," said Québec. "How are they so happy? They don't even have a proper turkey, and their Christmas tree is nothing but a few ornaments, and popcorn instead of tinsel and lights!"

The ghost rolled his eyes. "Well, let me tell you somethin'. What they got in their hearts is much better than any sparkly lit-up tree or any gut-bustin' turkey could ever generate."

"And what is that?"

"Love," the ghost replied.

"Alright, everybody, I've got the food ready," Northwest called. Yukon and Nunavut helped her put out plates, silverware, the pie, the stew, the ham, the mixed vegetables, and the pudding on the table. Chairs from other rooms were brought in so all thirteen of them could sit down. Once the provinces and territories were at the table, Canada proposed a toast…

"To Québec."

Next to the ghost, Québec felt her throat tighten.

"Good one," Saskatchewan muttered.

"Why does Québec get the toast?" Ontario wanted to know. "She's not even here, eh?"

"I'll say!" Alberta agreed. "Raisin' a glass to her. I'd like to raise a glass and then drop it on her head!"

"Alberta, you don't mean that," Canada sighed. "It's Christmas. She deserves a bit of a reprieve."

Most people grumbled, but for the sake of Christmas Day, they raised their glasses to Québec anyhow. "Merry Christmas to Québec," they said in unison. Once they had the toast out of the way, they were happy again. Now Québec was out of their minds, and they could eat in happiness.

"Ghost," Québec asked Christmas Present. "I see…Monsieur Canada has been kind to me, even now. Perhaps I ought to have…and the others…"

"Yeah, how about that. Listen, kiddo, I gotta getcha back where you were…Number Three doesn't like to be kept waitin'." Christmas Present waved his torch and then let the light around them dissipate. They were now standing on a dark street.

"Well, see ya 'round, buckaroo!" the ghost called, flying off.  
Québec chased after him. "_Arrêtez, arrêtez_! Who is 'Number Three'?" she ran until she reached an old clock tower. The clock said 11:59.

-END OF CHAPTER FOUR-


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